A few days after Bethany Dramel's vofa, it was a rainy afternoon.

New Hanover, on the banks of the Kamassa River near the Ronoke Mountains.

White tents have been artificially erected on both sides of the river, and a group of men and women dressed in white or yellow robes with strange runes engraved on their foreheads live, sweating and busy, working together for their own survival and for the lives of their fellow writers as well as those who regard them as writers.

On a nearby towering cliff, a man in a black robe with a bare head with a few hairs left led several young men and women with rune-shaped wounds on their foreheads that had not yet fully scabbed over on the cliff.

The black-robed man stood on the cliff closest to the camp, and he only needed to take one more step back, and he could have a blood-spattered intimate contact with the camp tent dozens of meters below his current altitude, but there was no fear on his face, only abnormal fanaticism and excitement.

"My brothers and sisters," he began, "just earlier this day the industrious messenger brought me the latest message from the All-Knowing and Almighty Goddess from His Excellency the Great Shepherd. ”

The fanatical gaze of the black-robed man glanced at the young juniors in front of him who were confused, and said, "You might as well guess what the goddess's will says?" ”

"The Goddess is omniscient and omnipotent, but we are only mortals, as small as us, how can we guess the will of the Goddess?" A young male congregant spoke.

The black-robed man recognized this young man, he had only been baptized with stigmata the day before, and the wounds on his forehead were still fresh blood-red.

He rejected the young brother's immature views with a very gentle attitude, saying: "We are all baptized by the divine grace of the goddess, the guardians of the glory of the goddess, the glory of the goddess has mercy on us and protects us, we ourselves are a part of the goddess, we are the very end of the infinite glory of the goddess, so what the goddess thinks and desires is what we think and want, so if you are pious enough, you will be able to feel the will of the goddess." ”

The black-robed man looked at the young juniors in front of him who were ashamed, and smiled: "I don't mean to blame you, I know that most of you have only accepted the teachings I taught within the last week, and it is understandable that you have not felt the inspiration of the goddess. ”

"I have been the leader of this camp for a long time, and I know very well that the accumulation of faith requires a process, and whether the believer of the goddess is pious or not depends on whether he can provide for and worship the goddess for a long time, and not when he prays to the goddess."

"And it is precisely because of the lack of your faith that you are standing here now, because you need me as a messenger to convey to you the will of the Goddess."

When the Protestants of the "seventh generation" heard this, they knelt down and bowed their heads, and made a solemn gesture with their hands that they would only make when they prayed, saying, "Listen to the oracle of the woman." ”

The black-robed man smiled with satisfaction.

He paused, as if because the news had excited him so much that he had to adjust his breathing before he could speak.

"The goddess's oracle is very simple," the black-robed man's voice was unconsciously lowered at the moment, "'Six generations are dead, but seven generations are eternal'. ”

Hearing this, all the young sect members who knelt down in front of the black-robed man all raised their heads, their faces mixed with shock and ecstasy.

"I think, none of you should know the meaning of these eight words, right?" The black-robed man smiled, satisfied with the reaction of these young juniors.

"Six generations are dead, seven generations live forever."

The meaning of these eight words is known even to those who have just joined the "Seventh Generation" sect, because this sentence is one of the teachings that these people often talk about, representing the purpose of the "Seventh Generation" sect, to overthrow the evil and backward old world created by the sixth generation of old humans, to judge those old humans who indulge in depravity and evil, and to establish a new world bathed in the glory of the goddess.

And this sentence, which was passed on by the goddess to all her followers in the form of an oracle, added a layer of meaning.

The holy war is about to start.

"That's right!" The black-robed man did not suppress his inner emotions at this moment, and shouted like an aria, "The holy war is about to start!" After being persecuted by this wicked and corrupt world for so long, we can finally cleanse evil with blood and fire, destroy the depravity, and let the glory of the Goddess shine on the earth! It won't be long before His Excellency the Great Shepherd will call us and lead us together to burn this world to ruins! ”

"Long live the goddess!" Long live the Shepherd's Excellency! A thunderous cry echoed through the empty mountains and clear waters.

"Wait! My brothers and sisters! Get ready! Loyal followers of His Excellency the Shepherd! Let's fight! Loyal defenders of the glory of the Goddess! The black-robed man shouted frantically.

The gloomy sky exploded with thunder, and the rain seemed to be mobilized to stir up the flames hidden in the soul, a little bigger, like the terrifying cry of another new world hidden under the existing world.

Just as this small rally was at its most emotional, an abrupt middle-aged man's voice suddenly sounded:

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I think your jihadist plans need to change."

Only then did the black-robed man notice that a middle-aged man on a horse and carrying a repeating rifle on his shoulder looked at them expressionlessly, and behind him were a dozen gunmen who were sloppily dressed but loaded with guns.

The middle-aged man had long hair that had just hung down to his shoulders, a gambler's hat that had been worn out to the eye, and a dirty dustproof trench coat that seemed to be much brighter under the rain.

"Intruder, give your name." The black-robed man's face was full of anger, which was the easiest emotion for fanaticism to turn into.

"Want to know my name? You're not qualified enough," the middle-aged man said, raising his gun and pointing in the direction behind the black-robed man, "Look down the mountain, I think, today's rain does mask a lot of other sounds, isn't it?" ”

The black-robed man subconsciously looked down the cliff, but saw a scene like hell.

The white tents on the riverbank were now dyed scarlet, and several men on horseback and armed with guns roamed through the camp, shouting to the lame Indian war cry.

His hard-working and respectable brothers and sisters all fell to the ground in silence at this time, some with several horrible blood holes in their bodies, and some missing body parts such as arms, legs, or heads.

These people who once toiled like ordinary working people, these people who once killed people and set fires like mad outlaws, are now nothing more than piles of lifeless flesh and blood.

The torrential rain engulfed the corpses of the "seventh generation" and carried them downstream.

The river was stained red with the blood of these people, just as when we eat mulberry or red heart dragon fruit, our teeth and lips are stained red by their flesh and juice.

"No!" On the cliff, the black-robed man fell to his knees with a "plop" and roared angrily, "Who are you!" Why are you doing this! ”

The middle-aged man looked very indifferent and said, "Reduce the number of your people, so that the next thing will be easier." ”

He made a gesture that only he and his men could understand, and behind him, several smiling gunmen led their crotch horses out of the queue, holding the noose most commonly used by cowboys.

Even in the uncivilized primeval mountains, no matter how fierce the rain is, there will always be a time to stop.

In the primeval forest not far from the camp of the "Seventh Generation" sect that had just been destroyed, there was also a temporary camp, which belonged to the initiators of the bloody tragedy ten minutes ago.

The middle-aged man was lying in his tent with his eyes closed, and he didn't mind hearing the sound of whipping not far away, the screams and curses of the torturers, and the interrogation and cursing of the torturers.

Unfortunately, he didn't have a long rest. After about twenty minutes, the middle-aged man was woken up by one of his men.

"What's wrong?" He rubbed his eyes and asked, a little bored.

"Boss, these cultists don't say anything useful except for putting some fart there that only they can understand." The little brother who came to wake him up said.

"Rubbish!" The middle-aged man scolded, "Can't you even understand the trial?" Do I have to do everything myself? So what do I want you to do? ”

The younger brother was scolded so much that he didn't dare to speak, he would not be stupid enough to say it directly in front of the boss, and the first two little leaders of the cult who were personally interrogated to death by him also didn't say anything.

The middle-aged man emerged from the tent with some irritability and came to the place where their captives were bound.

The black-robed man had been stripped of his robe at this time, revealing a weather-beaten and thin body, which was already burdened with whip marks that it could not bear according to common sense, but the eyes of the owner of this body were still full of loyalty and fanaticism, and he was not shaken by the pain of his body in the slightest.

"Tut-tut," the middle-aged man walked up to him, did not take the whip handed over by his subordinates, but pulled out his dagger to play, he raised his eyes to look at the injured but energetic man on the tree, and sighed, "It's the first time I've seen a god stick like you, and the bones are quite hard." ”

The scarred man snorted coldly and said, "Torture me, evil intruder, but you will never get the slightest information about our great leader from me. ”

"Alas," the middle-aged man sighed helplessly, and said, "In the same way, I have already told your two previous colleagues, that I am here to seek cooperation, but why are you all so virtuous?" ”

"Cooperation?" The man in the tree sneered and said, "It turns out that the cruel killing of innocent people, and then kidnapping the survivors and torturing them with cruel punishments, these acts are in your eyes a means of seeking cooperation?" ”

"No, of course not, sir," said the middle-aged man, waving the dagger in his hand in denial, "it's just a means to an end that I don't have to choose." ”

"Hmph, clever words." The bound man didn't believe it at all.

"Let me start from the beginning," said the middle-aged man, posing as he laid out a storyteller, "and at the beginning, we proposed to meet your leaders in the form of a dialogue. ”

"But instead of brutally rejecting our offer, they shot and wounded one of my brothers," said the middle-aged man, beckoning to a man with a blood-stained bandage on his shoulder, pointing to his captive, "Well, you see, the wound is still infected, and we have to cut off a large piece of rotting flesh for him." ”

The middle-aged man looked at the wounded brother and said as he paced: "At first, we were only forced to fight back, but then I realized one thing, perhaps, we should indeed show our strength in the way of our outlaws, so as to show our own initiative, so I directly washed the other camp of yours that I found next, and there was not a single living mouth." ”

"I was going to take out a few more of your strongholds and talk about meeting your boss again, but I'm running out of patience," the middle-aged man approached the man tied up in the tree and said, "So, I hope you can cooperate with us and tell us where to find your leader, trust me, we will have a good time working with you." ”

The man who had been taken prisoner only stubbornly closed his eyes, twisted his head, and refused to cooperate.

"Okay, okay, you people just don't cry when you don't see the coffin, right? Okay, I'll satisfy you. The middle-aged man said irritably, signaling to his men, and immediately two strong men came out of the line and straightened the heads of the men on the tree with brute force, while the middle-aged men themselves took out a young man from the row of "seventh generation" members on the other side, who were tied up like pigs to the slaughter, and threw them in front of his captive.

"You've been active in New Hanover and Ambarino, so you haven't heard of the Skinning Brothers, right?" He crouched down, the dagger in his hand lightly slicing across the young man's cheek, and said, "Honestly, I've never seen such a crazy group of people. Take us as an example, we also kill people without blinking, and we like to torture others, but our ultimate goal is still to make money, and killing and abusing are just some means for us to make money. ”

"But they're different," the middle-aged man's hand holding the dagger seemed to tremble, "and those people never seem to need money because they want things that money can't buy." They love to torture and kill others by all means, just like eating and drinking, they will be uncomfortable if they don't do it for a day, and the methods they use are countless times more cruel than ours. ”

"So I thought, why don't you use two of their most common methods on you today, so that you can watch them?" The corners of the middle-aged man's mouth hooked up into a cruel smile, and he said, "The most favorite method used by the Skinning Brothers on others is to scalp up, and the other is to cut open the stomach and tear out the intestines." ”

"As far as I know, if you are scalped, you can live for about a week, and if you are torn out of your intestines, you will die of pain after six or seven hours," the middle-aged man suddenly pulled the captive on the ground by the hair and said, "You choose one, which project do you want to experience?" Or do you want to try both? Rest assured, I absolutely follow your wishes. ”

The captive, who was pinned to the ground and unable to struggle, was now terrified to the extreme, and he cried out loudly, both in his eyes and in the crotch of his trousers: "No, no, no, please, please spare me." ”

"Only this request can't satisfy you," the middle-aged man smirked, the dagger had already cut through the captive's scalp, "Since you don't choose, then I'll automatically help you choose to scalp!" To be honest, my parents used to scalp Indians, but this is my first time, so it's better not to struggle, or what will happen, I can't control it, ahhahahaha......"

The middle-aged man laughed wildly, a little more crazy than the black-robed man before. His dagger had cut a deep, ever-widening cut in the forehead of the captives beneath him, and the young captives cried out in fear and begged for mercy, but no one paid any attention to him, and the people around him only watched with interest as their boss scalped him alive, with not even a hint of pity in their eyes.

"Stop!"

Just as the poor young man's scalp was about to be completely sliced open, the middle-aged man's hopeful voice finally sounded, interrupting the path of his dagger.

"Beaver Cave," the man in the tree cried out, gasping as if with all his strength, "he ...... He was in the Beaver Cave...... Let them go, and I'll show you the way......"

"Very good," said the middle-aged man, releasing the young man, whose face was already covered in blood, putting away the dagger, "you have made a wise choice, sir, and I am confident that my meeting with your leader will be fruitful." ”

Everyone in the makeshift camp sprang into action, and within ten minutes, everything was packed up and the "seventh generation" cultists were untied.

The man put on his black robe again and mounted on the horse that the gang had prepared for him.

He looked back at the somewhat dazed members behind him, smiled bitterly, and said, "Go to the nearest camp, don't call me an informer, of course, if you really want to say that, I can do it." ”

The Ronock Mountains, the deepest part of the beaver cave.

The great leader of the "Seventh Generation" sect, Virgil "Shepherd" Edwards, gently lowered the special dagger in his hand, and with a wave of his hand, let the congregation stand by him throw the woman who was already tortured under his hands and was dying.

Recently, too many things have happened, the arrest of the "prophet" Feige and the "missionary" Dragell has made him a little irritated, and the "baptism" of those young women who are not from his religion can help him to ease his emotions and gain a temporary peace.

The so-called "baptism" is to use knives to perform various artistic creations such as "carving" and "peeling" all over the body of the "baptized", with the ultimate goal of bringing the greatest possible suffering to the "baptized", and the "baptized" cannot die in the whole process. It's a technical job, and Virgil Edwards is a guru of the way.

"Your Excellency."

A man with black hair and a shawl and a calm look called out to him.

Virgil Edwards said with some annoyance, "Brother Allen, didn't I say that? Nothing important, don't bother me. ”

"A 'rider' has returned," said Allen indifferently, "and he has brought us some visitors." ”

Virgil Edwards' face froze when he heard this. He pondered for a moment and said, "Let the representatives of those visitors come in, remember to unload their weapons, arrange more people, and keep an eye on the others outside." ”

"Obey the royal decree, great Excellency." Alan saluted and turned to leave.

After a short time, Alan ushered in a middle-aged man and introduced him, "This is the great leader of our sect, Your Excellency the Shepherd. ”

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Excellency the Great Shepherd, or rather, Dear Mr. Edwards," said the middle-aged man, bowing lightly as he took off his hat, "and introduce myself, my name is Colm Odrysco, and it doesn't matter if you have heard of me, or maybe you have not heard of me. ”

"So, Mr. Odrysco," said Virgil Edwards, turning to the smiling visitor, "tell me what is important?" ”

"I know something about the culprits behind the recent arrest of important members of your leadership," Colm said, "and, I have a collaborative project here, and I wonder if you, Your Excellency Shepherd, are you interested?" ”